


A Very Charlie Brown Christmas

by softestpink



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha!Stiles, BAMF Lydia Martin, Christmas fic, F/M, First Kiss, Isaac Lahey Feels, M/M, Multi, Pack Family, Pack Feels, Pack Mom Stiles Stilinski, Past Mentions of Abuse, Scisaac - Freeform, adorable!Scott, alpha!Derek, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 17:59:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/625018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softestpink/pseuds/softestpink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas Eve with the pack escalates in Isaac's desire for Scott and Stiles' desire for tinsel and ugly sweaters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Very Charlie Brown Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> This is Scisaac-centered, lovely people.

Isaac is ten years old and he loves snow.  
  
He loves the light weight of it, sifting through his fingers, coasting over his naked, bruised shoulders. So it really isn’t much of a punishment when his father shoves him out into the yard every Christmas eve. He can’t feel his toes or his fingers on the freezing wood flooring, but he prefers this numbness to the burn of a belt. Isaac curls up on the back porch, all pale skin and sharp angles as he sniffs the cool air. The Whittemores put up decorations every year. He likes to watch the fairy lights blink, pretty but blurry as the stiff wind picks up and he curls in on himself even more.  
  
(His body shakes, but after 20 minutes or 40 minutes or an hour in the cold he can’t feel a thing. It’s nice. It reminds him of his mother. She always did like snow.)  
  


 

*

  
  
Isaac is seventeen and he still loves snow.  
  
He’s watching as Stiles strings up lights and growls at anyone who complains about it. Erica’s already been kicked out of the kitchen twice for sassing him, so the rest of the pack (minus Lydia because she’d rather be six feet under than caught doing _manual labor_ ) is putting up with his demands. Boyd and Derek are decorating the fridge, making tinsel seem manlier than ever, but mostly they’re just sneaking bits of food from the table. And Scott?  
  
Scott is doing what Scott does best. Somehow, he’s managing to keep everyone happy, grinning as he and Stiles sing along to what Isaac is pretty sure is Beyonce on the radio. Both boys simultaneously perform a move that has obviously been practiced, and Derek makes a noise that sounds almost pained as they all watch. Stiles might be an alpha now, but he’s still _Stiles_. Scott’s all dimples and boyish charm as he dances around in another of Stiles’ god-awful sweaters and sings about how everything is going in a box to the left and _j_ _esus christ_ Isaac can’t stop watching him.  
  
He likes Scott. He knows it. Derek knows it (not that he cares). Hell, even Allison knows it.  
  
Isaac bites his lip as he remembers the way she’d cornered him in the library. It had been the day before Christmas break when she’d found him at the deserted table.  
  
“Hi.” she’d started and Isaac had absolutely  _freaked_ because Allison had not-so-secretly loved the guy that Isaac is- that Isaac- and she and her relatives weren’t exactly advocates for werewolf integration. “No, hey, it’s- it’s okay.”  
  
She’d put her hands up defensively. “Just listen, Isaac. I know how you feel. About Scott-”  
  
He tensed even more, back ramrod in the plastic chair. “and it’s okay.”  
  
His mouth felt dry. “How?” he wasn’t sure what he was trying to ask. How do you know? How do I feel about Scott? How is that okay? How are you _so calm_?  
  
“He likes you too, you know. He may not know it, but he does.” she sat across from him, twirling a piece of her dark hair as she spoke. “And I don’t want you two avoiding each other or something idiotic just because of me. We didn’t work out, but that doesn’t mean that Scott isn't- I mean-” she swallowed. “Scott deserves to be happy. And you deserve someone to make you happy too.”  
  
Isaac had swallowed awkwardly and nodded, even though he honestly didn’t understand any of this. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Scott and Allison were supposed together. They were THE couple. The hunter and the wolf. Forbidden, star-crossed lovers.  
  
But then again, he wasn’t supposed to be a werewolf either. Hell, he wasn’t even supposed to be born.  
  
(He was a skinny little shit that couldn’t touch a goddamned thing without ruining it.)  
  
(Isaac pretends that it isn’t his father’s voice.)      
  
He’s pulled out of his own head by (suprise, suprise) Scott.

Scott wants to know if he likes pie.  
  
“Yeah. Pie. Pie’s good” he says and his tentative smile is so pathetic that he can’t understand why Scott doesn’t just walk away now.  
  
But Scott isn’t walking away. He’s smiling and it’s like being hit with a baseball bat. Disorienting and bad for brainwork.  
  
“Awesome. My mom.” Scott says and it almost looks like he’s _blushing_. “She wants to make one for you.”  
  
“For me?” Isaac asks because he doesn’t understand. “Why?”  
  
“I may have mentioned you.” There’s definitely blushing. “So did you want to come over with me tomorrow and pick it up? You can bring it back here if you want. She just kind of wants to meet you.”  
  
Isaac says yes because he can’t say no to a blushing Scott in a stupid Christmas sweater apparently.

 

*

  
  
Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and Lydia is batshit crazy. She and Stiles have teamed up to make sure that everything is ready for the Christmas Party they’re apparently having at Derek’s house. It’s ten in the morning on a Saturday when Lydia forces Jackson, Erica, and him to spread lights out over the entire lawn while she flounces around in the living room, directing Derek and Boyd in lifting furniture and putting up stockings.  
  
“This is ridiculous.” Jackson whines. “I hate Christmas.”  
  
“Better not let Bridezilla hear you.” Erica teases and Jackson throws a handful of snow at her. It spikes an all-out war, and Isaac is dragged into it when Erica makes a bad swing, catching him on the cheek.  
  
It isn’t long before Boyd peeks his head out at the sounds of their laughter and joins in. It turns out he’s a pro, and it isn’t long before they divide into teams. Erica and Boyd against Jackson and Isaac.  
  
“We’ve got this man.” Jackson whispers and ruffles Isaac’s curls. Isaac rolls his eyes but can’t help agreeing. Erica’s aim has not improved with the bite.  
  
They fling wads of snow at each other for a good hour before Stiles and Scott pull up in the Jeep. They’re attacked immediately, snowballs flying dangerously fast in Scott’s direction. Stiles screams and dives out of the way, while Scott laughs and takes the brunt of it. He shakes out his hair and Isaac catches that adorable Superman curl thing it does sometimes.  
  
Pretty soon Stiles is postponing the snowball fight with forcing them to put away the groceries.  
  
(Lydia’s lights have only made it across half the lawn.)    
  


 

*

  
  
Stiles cooks enough food to feed a small nation. No. Really. He flits around the kitchen at hyperspeed, mixing things, frying things, baking things. The only person allowed to touch anything is Danny when he comes over.  
  
Boyd protests that he _can_ cook, **really** , but Stiles gives him The Look.  
  
“Boyd, you don’t cook. You, Derek, and Erica just pick off of the food while I work my ass off. It’s counterproductive.”  
  
Boyd bites his lip and looks away while Erica makes a half-assed attempt to look mildly offended from her perch on the sink. Derek, who obviously has no regrets, simply shrugs.  
  
“Can I have some macaroni?” Isaac asks just because he knows that it will work.  
  
“Yes.” Stiles answers easily, sliding him a blue bowl.  
  
“ **HEY** -” Erica and Jackson start at the same time, and Isaac grins in their direction as Stiles interrupts them.  
  
“I need someone to _taste_ -test, not eat-all-the-damn-food-test.” he explains, smacking Derek’s fingers with a wooden spoon when he reaches behind Stiles for a cookie.  
  
“Ow.” Derek says, more sarcasm than actual pain.  
  
“That means you too, Sourwolf.” but he makes up for it, intoning in a dark, husky voice and adding solid kiss on Derek’s mouth. Derek catches on quickly, wrapping his arms around Stiles’ torso and pulling them even closer.  
  
“Oh. Suddenly not hungry anymore.” Isaac quietly states, scrunching up his nose because _gross_.    
  
“Nope. I need someone to taste the food.” Stiles smirks at him with one hand firmly wrapped in Derek’s henley and Isaac realizes that he’s **trapped himself**.  
  
Everyone makes excuses to leave the kitchen because they know exactly what’s bound to happen when Derek and Stiles stay in one room together for too long. Boyd and Jackson make no attempt to hide their laughter as they leave, and Isaac also realizes that he hates all of them.    
  


 

*

  
  
He’s finally saved from Derek and Stiles’ casual eyefucking and not-so-casual touching when Scott walks in and asks if he’s ready to go.  
  
“Yes.” he says automatically, not even sure of what Scott’s really talking about until they make it to Stiles’ Jeep.  
  
“Don’t worry.” he says as they pull out and Scott must think Isaac is nervous because he places a hand on Isaac’s thigh and goes “My mom’s totally cool.”  
  
And now Isaac is worrying. Scott’s mother will hate him so much. Isaac is terrible with parents. Always has been. She’s going to think Isaac is creepy and weird and too quiet. And she’ll be wondering why Isaac has a boner because her son was just touching his leg. She’s going to _hate_ him. Oh god oh god **oh god**. Why did he agree to this?!   
  
Isaac tries to keep his anxiety internalized as they ride to Scott’s house, but it must not be working because Scott immediately zeroes in.  
  
“Hey, are you okay?” he asks.  
  
Isaac should say yes. He should definitely just leave it alone and say ‘yes’.  
  
He turns to Scott. “I- no. I mean-”  
  
Smooth. “She probably won’t like me.” he says with a grimace.  
  
“Why do you think that?”  
  
“I’m weird, I guess.”  
  
“Dude, you’re not weird.”  
  
“Parents- people usually think i’m too quiet.”  
  
Scott frowns like he’s actually listening to Isaac’s personal issues.  
  
“Quiet isn’t bad, and maybe they just aren’t listening. You talk to me.”  
  
 Isaac stares at Scott.  
  
“Yeah, I guess I do.” and Scott’s smile is unexpected. It pulls at something in Isaac. Something that makes him want to smile back. 

  
(He does.)  
  


 

*

  
  
Ms. McCall is nice. She fusses over him. She calls him ‘sweetheart’. She definitely doesn't think he's weird, if body language is anything to go on. She even gives him clothes after she digs into him and finds out he’s staying at the old Hale house. When she goes in for a hug, he flinches and he wishes he could take it back. She seems to understand though, and Isaac is grateful. It’s happened before, every time someone who isn’t pack tries to touch him.  
  
She doesn’t hold it against him though, even after he apologizes for the fourth time. She even gives him that pie. It’s blueberry and it smells like it’ll even rival Stiles’ apple turnover at home.  
  
He’ll see.  
  
Scott is bouncing around like a cartoon character the entire time. He gets up to get Isaac the clothes. He brings everyone water. He hides the baby books so that his mother won’t show them off.  
  
(It’s hilarious and Isaac wants to ask him if Stiles is the only one on Adderall.) 

 

*

 

It’s Christmas Eve and everyone is mellow.  
  
Draped across the couch-but mostly just draped across Boyd-is Erica, moaning about how full she is. Stiles is curled up on Derek in the armchair, nodding off for the evening on his boyfriend’s broad chest. Lydia and Jackson sit next to each other as she bargains for a footrub that they all know is going to happen, while Scott and Isaac occupy the completely trashed kitchen.  
  
“What will you do tomorrow?” Scott asks him around a bite of potatoes. Isaac swears this is his fourth plate.  
  
He shrugs and scratches his head.    
  
“Sleep?”     
  
Scott looks appalled.  
  
“On Christmas?”  
  
Isaac ducks his head when he feels a blush coming on from Scott’s probing eyes.  
  
“Yeah. I’ve never really been big on Christmas.”  
  
The word feels like broken china and broken skin in his mouth and Isaac stutters a bit.

(He pushes the memories away because that’s what they are. Only memories.) 

  
Scott shakes his head with a cheerful smile. “Christmas is a family thing. You shouldn’t be alone, Isaac.” he says and reaches for Isaac’s hand on the table.  
  
He can’t do this.  
  
He can’t.  
  
Another minute of ‘just friends’, ‘just concerned about you Isaac’, ‘not attracted to you Isaac’ and Isaac will vomit.  
  
He leaves, sliding off of the stool carefully and making sure he shuts the door quietly when he makes it outside. He sits on the porch, folding his knees into his ribs the way he used to, keeping himself together.  
  
Isaac loves the snow.  
  
He loves the way it slides through his fingers still, real and permanent. There are no wounds on his body for the cold to chase. No bruises to numb. But it feels good anyway, so Isaac lets himself dip his fingers in a small pile.  
  
“Isaac?”  
  
He doesn’t turn. He won’t turn when Scott sounds like that. All warm and sorry like it’s his fault that Isaac is wrecked.  
  
He feels something being wrapped around him. It’s Scott’s coat. It smells like him. Spice and musk and Dove soap permeate the coat and it’s good. Isaac lets himself hold on to it.  
  
“I’m sorry, Isaac.” Scott says, crouching to sit next to him on the steps. He folds his arms tightly over his knees and rests his chin on them. “I wasn’t thinking. I mean, I knew about you and your dad, but I just-”  
  
He makes a frustrated grunt and starts again. Isaac groans inwardly. He’s being an ass. Scott is a great guy and he’s acting like some pissy "nice guy" that can’t take rejection. Jesus.  
  
“Do you want to come over? To my house? Tomorrow?”  
  
Isaac looks up, shocked.  
  
“For Christmas?” Isaac wants to punch himself in the face. No shit, Sherlock.  
  
“Yeah” Scott is hanging onto his every word.  
  
Isaac can’t stop his grin now. “I think I’d like that.”  
  
“Awesome.” Scott breathes like he’s been neglecting to for the past minute. “Can we go inside now? It’s really cold.”  
  
Isaac notices now that Scott is shivering and stands. He’s being an insensitive asshole. He hands the coat back to Scott immediately and leads him back into the warm living room.  
  
Derek and Stiles have disappeared (probably upstairs), along with Lydia and Jackson. Boyd and Erica are in the kitchen, but the sliding door is closed, blocking off any view of what they’re doing. Isaac honestly doesn’t want to know either, so that’s okay.  
  
He plops down on the couch, suddenly tired.  
  
Scott sits right next to him, and Isaac tries not to analyze that. Obviously it isn’t working though because his throat is tight when he talks again.  
  
“So you and your mom celebrate Christmas every year?”  
  
“When she gets home, which is pretty late. She works at the hospital so we have sort of a late Christmas. More like December 26th actually” Scott quirks a smile.  
  
Isaac frowns. “But you’ll be alone. All day.”  
  
And then Scott picks up Isaac’s hand tentatively, like Isaac will pull away at his touch.  
  
“Well. Not tomorrow.” he muses evenly and holy god Isaac is having a heart attack.  
  
He isn’t though because his jaw is falling open, flapping like a dying fish or something just as awkward. Scott dips his head down and sort of drops Isaac’s hand.  
  
“Sorry, I-” and Isaac can’t stop himself.  
  
It’s like his body is being pulled by invisible strings as he swings himself around, throwing one leg over Scott’s hip. He straddles Scott’s lap and savors the wide-eyed look on Scott’s face as he places his hands on the older boy’s shoulders.  
  
“Yes.” Isaac says, and he isn’t sure what he’s saying it for, but Scott doesn’t ask.  
  
Scott puts a hand on the back of his neck, guiding him closer, so slowly that Isaac thinks he’ll combust. He whimpers and he would be embarrassed but Scott is bucking up, grinding their hips together slowly. So slow Isaac thinks he’s going to die. He finally pushes their mouths together, crashing more than meeting Scott’s lips. It’s sloppy and it’s hot and it’s _**good**_ with Scott, Isaac realizes. His dick is hard, achingly so. How could it not be when Scott is gripping his hips and working them together like he’s crazed? Isaac isn’t sure what to do so he just rolls against Scott, testing their mouths together again. It must be right though because the friction is wonderful. Hot. Burning. A whine builds in the back of his throat and Isaac can barely detect an answering growl from Scott when he licks into his mouth. It’s the best first kiss he could’ve asked for and _jesus_ it’s almost embarrassing how close Isaac is to coming in his pants.  
  
He focuses on Scott. On Scott’s taste. On Scott’s smell when he’s aroused.  
  
“Fuck” Scott whines and Isaac kisses down his chin, nipping at his jawline, licking at his neck.  
  
“Well. well. well.” says a voice and Isaac looks up sharply, eyes flashing golden with the automatic need to protect Scott.  
  
Scott clutches Isaac closer, obviously affected with the same desire.  
  
“Isn’t this...festive?” Erica says and Isaac resists the urge to flip her the finger as he calms. There is no threat. “You two can relax. I just came to get Boyd’s phone.” She bends down to pick up the device from the floor.  
  
“Carry on”  
  
“I hate her.” Isaac confesses when she leaves and Scott laughs.  
  
“You know,” he starts and Isaac pushes the Superman curl out of his face. “I think the Peanuts special is on.”  
  
Isaac ducks a little in an attempt to hide the full force of his blinding smile.  
  
Of course Scott would remember. Isaac loves Peanuts. Scott reaches for the remote and flips on the t.v., and sure enough, A Charlie Brown Christmas is only half an hour in. Scott slouches back into the couch, and Isaac shifts to move off of him, but Scott stops him with a gentle hand.  
  
Instead, he maneuvers Isaac’s body so that he’s still in his lap but his feet are stretched out along the couch too, and Isaac’s head is tucked into his neck. Maybe they aren't star-crossed, but he could get used to this.

   
  
(Scott mouths the all of the words, and Isaac loves him for it.) **  
**

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: There will be a sequel because these two won't. leave. me. alone. 
> 
> So yeah. 
> 
> Look out for that.


End file.
